Dreams of Dragons, Demons and Darkspawn
by DeeP ci
Summary: Artis is a mage that doesn't believe in magic, Aster is an ex-Templar who doesn't want to be Queen, Jowan a mage struggling to do the right thing and Morgan... actually, what IS that guy up to anyway..? [({OC Warden, F!Alister, M!Morrigan and ...Jowan})]


**Main Characters**- OC Warden (Artis), F!Alister (Aster), M!Morrigan (Morgan), Jowan (...Jowan)  
**Pairings**- Artis x Morgan, Aster x ? (It's a secret!)

-~-~-~-  
**Dreams of Dragons, Demons and Darkspawn**  
_Chapter One - the Demon Days_  
-~-~-~-

Kalani Amell simply grinned, lounging back in his wholly uncomfortable stone seat, mocha skin glowing in the candlelight. Dark tatoos curved across his skin, almost sinisterly so, and in stark contrast to the amusement twisting his face.

Artis was Senior Enchanter Sweeney's protege, or so he liked to claim. A lot of the teachers had a sweet spot for the young mage.

'_And not just the mages, either,_' he mused, casting a calculating almost-glare at a certain red-haired templar.

Artis was truly clueless to be unable to see it - and there was a very real possibility that she was the only person in the tower who was unaware of how utterly smitten the boy was.

...Well, either that or she was having them all on. She was a hell of a lot smarter than her blank looks and her clumsy gait suggested. After all, she'd been in the circle for only two years yet was on par with most of the oldest apprentices...

Kalani wasn't quite sure sure how that worked, considering she didn't believe in magic... but that was another story. It was her experience with the outside world that had caught the interest of many an apprentice mage.

She was a master of evasion, he'd give her that. But nothing would stop Jowan from pestering her to let up.

Artis hadn't shown any signs of turning Jowan into a pile of ash, either, which was surprising. Perhaps she enjoyed the exchanges more than she would care to admit.

"Kalani Amell," stated a templar approaching the trio. "Come with me, please."

Artis and Jowan fell silent, and Kalani's grin faltered. By the time it had returned, it held no amusement or mirth. "Of course," he said, rising.

With Kal's depature, Jowan conceded a temporary reprieve from trying to pry information from the younger mage, opting to go for something more cooperative... like a book. They were in the library, after all.

Minutes later, almost completely out of the blue, Artis tilted her head and smiled, her fingertips glowing blue as she sensed the faint touch of lyrium in the air.

No one heard her whisper, a lopsided smile playing upon her lips, "Looks like it's time for Kal's Harrowing..."

-~-~-~-  
**4D**

It was chaos.

Kalani refused to go down quietly. He was powerful, she'd give him that, and even though he played with swords, he was no match for a templar without the augmentation of his lyrium energy.

Her eyes burned with pain and sorrow. '_Jowan, how could you?_'

Artis was perched on the stair post, ignoring the fight. Blood magic. Didn't he know what happened to her? What those people... _his kind_... had done to her?

_Fiery claws, tearing through nothing, disembodied pain, screaming, madness, madness, laughter, cold laughter..._

'_No_,' she mentally scolded. This was no time to get caught up in _that _nightmarish memory.

The room fell eerily silent. Kal had likely fallen, but she didn't know whether to death or unconsciousness. Honestly, she didn't want to know.

"I failed to see this coming," she said, as she sensed the particular energy signature of a templar aproaching. She couls feal the disapproval. Demon-hater, assisting a blood mage. "I didn't know. I didn't see." She buried her face in her hands. "The threads were there! I didn't see. Maybe I just didn't want to..."

Her palms were wet. She kept her head down and wiped her tears away, refused to let more fall. She had barely shed a tear during her time at the circle. She would not let this, perhaps the last moments of her life, be a time of sorrow.

"I did what I thought was right," she said firmly, the embers of determination set in her eyes. "That is all we can ever do... isn't it?"

She would accept whatever fate decided to throw at her. She wasn't about to regret her actions now. '_Helping a friend. I have so few..._' she mused.

A cruel spark lit up in her mind as she saw the face of the Knight-Commander... '_And now you have none._'

-~-~-~-  
**4D**

A strong hand clasped over his mouth from behind. Nullifying templar-magic swept through his entire body and he felt his own magic withering up in response. His heart raced as blind panic engulfed him.

They'd caught him! So soon... He'd been so close to freedom...

He struggled, but in the end his lower physical strength betrayed him and he was carted... somewhere. A rough sack covered his head and he could barely see where he was going.

A lot of time passed - he knew not how long, only that he was incredibly thirsty - before he was shoved into a room and the sack was torn off of his head, rough fabric leaving his skin sore and red.

"Hello Jowan," said Ulfric with a grin, gesturing to a candle-lit desk, maps strewn across tables and walls. He gestured to the table, a water pitcher and two goblets set on the table. "Take a seat."

"Why...?"

Ulfric grinned, but there was no hint of kindness or warmth. "Why, dear boy? Because we are the same..."

**4D**

"Fresh air," Artis exclaimed with a grin, arms to the sky like a scream of hallelujah. Both dropped swiftly as she glared at the midday sun, though. "Ok, I liked the sunlight for about... three minutes. Now I'm sick of it again. Feel like I'm 'bout to spontaneously combust out here."

Duncan was distincly reminded of another recent recruit... one with an equally loud sense of humour and dry wit. "That _would_ be a shame," he said. "I'd hate to have to find another recruit to replace you on such short notice."

"Ooh! Lookit me, all irreplacable-like," she said with a giddy smile. Considering she had thought she was to die scarecly an hour ago, he'd let her have her taste of life. It was likely that light would fade through the trials ahead, but by the Maker he hoped not. Such sparks were becoming few and far between.

"Hmm," said Duncan non-comitally. "We will have to go on foot from here, I'm afraid. We do not have much time, so our pace will need to be fairly forced to reach Ostagar in time for the battle."

"The circle tower has a _lot_ of stairs, in case you haven't noticed," said Artis with a grin. "I think I can handle it."

Duncan chuckled, "Yes, it rather does, doesn't it?"

-~-~-~-  
**End Chapter**

**Consider this an experiment in writing Dragon Age. I haven't done much of that, admittedly.**

**Yes, there is a refference to my all-time favourite Magician character. If you squint... really really closely.**

**You don't need to be signed in to leave your two cents. *Jingles empty penny jar.***


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